


Gabe is a good dad

by IndulgentDiscourse



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Big Brother Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Combatting toxic masculinity one yehaw at a time, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-21 00:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10674012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndulgentDiscourse/pseuds/IndulgentDiscourse
Summary: A series of ficlets about Gabe being a good dad to his delinquent child, set in Blackwatch.Sorry the title is lame





	1. Risks of the job

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fic! I don't really have a beta, so all mistakes are mine.  
> I hope y'all enjoy!

"Breathe, Jesse. You have to breathe."

Jesse's head tossed from side to side, torn between looking at his arm trapped under rubble (though his view was blocked by Angela as she worked a tourniquet around his upper arm) and Gabriel. Gabriel squeezed Jesse's good hand as hard as he could, feeling gratified as the boy squeezed back.

Gabe ran his fingers through Jesse's soot-stained hair as Jesse swallowed panicked noises as Angela began to dig in her kit. Gabriel removed his hand from Jesse's head and placed it on his shoulder as Angela pulled out a wire and looped it around Jesse's arm above the elbow.

(Gabe had seen that wire in action before, it was the same tool that took DelRosso's foot after it became infected and septic on a mission in the wilderness. He understood that the slender wire was covered in small serrated teeth that could slice through bones in a matter of minutes. Quick, but certainly not painless. And judging by the noises that DelRosso made before he passed out, you could feel every pull of the wire. Gabriel still had the scars on his hand from where he offered himself up as something for his man to bite down on.)

Jesse whimpered as he felt the wire beginning to bite into his skin. After checking she had the necessary supplies nearby for after the amputation, Angela began the countdown. Gabe suspected it was more for her benefit than Jesse's.

"One," she began. Jesse shuddered in an attempt to force his body to relax. Tears dripped down his cheek, and Gabe wiped one away with his thumb. "Breathe," he advised. "Just breathe."

"T-two," Angela stuttered, her voice catching. Jesse had become like a brother to her over the past few years, it was hard for her to see him like this. Gathering herself up, she forced herself to start.

"Three."

At the first drag of the wire, Jesse shuddered. He jerked and gasped, bucking instinctively away. Gabriel pressed him back down by the hand on his shoulder. Angela gritted her teeth, and forced herself to keep going. Tears streamed down Jesse's face as the wire passed through muscle and tendons. He clenched his teeth so tight Gabe could hear them creaking. Eventually, something snapped in Jesse, and he cried out, whimpering and begging Angela to stop.

Angela whispered apologies as she worked, her bangs falling in her face and getting blood in her fair blonde hair. When she reached bone, Jesse shrieked. Wailed. Screamed. It was a terrible sound, one that Gabe never wanted to hear from anybody. Jesse didn't pass out.

At this point in DelRosso's amputation, the man was out. But Jesse clung to consciousness like a drowning man to a raft. Once Angela made it through the bones in Jesse's arm, he collapsed back, panting and whimpering. The only proof that Gabe had that Jesse wasn't drifting off was his hand was still being crushed by Jesse's grip, with the same unwavering strength. Gabe shushed Jesse's cries as Angela finished pulling the wire through flesh. One moment, the ragged arm was trapped under rocks and metal, and the next, Jesse was left with a stump that was bleeding profusely.

Angela hurriedly tossed the wire away and pulled out her caduceus. The technology helped stop the worst of the bleeding, but the rest of the care would have to be manual. Gabe pulled Jesse in close to him as Angela bandaged his stump. Jesse had stopped making any sounds at this point, and was growing pale. Gabe chocked it up to shock and blood loss.

Gabriel whispered to Jesse as Angela finished preparing him to move to the transport. Jesse's eyes were half closed and heavy as he looked up and Gabe. Gabe gave him a soft smile and whispered into the top of his head.

"You did good, mijo. I'm sorry this happened to you."


	2. Flinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miscommunication is the stuff of nightmares, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found a list of a bunch of headcanons of unhealthy behaviors that McCree would have left Deadlock with that he certainly would have brought with him into Blackwatch, so the next few chapters are gonna be centered on those.

Gabriel was a pretty touchy-feely kind of guy. Touch was how he expressed concern, joy, love, and anger. He wasn't one to shy away from a hand on a shoulder after a mission, or a hug after good news.

  
Jesse, however, was the opposite. He couldn't remember the last time he was touched by another person that was intended to hurt, not help. People in Deadlock kept their distance from one another, unless it was to beat the hell outta somebody.

  
Naturally, this left Jesse with some hangups regarding human contact, and some conflict between Jesse and Gabriel.

  
Gabe was only really aware how bad it was for Jesse after a long mission. For the past few months, he'd been giving the kid as much distance as he was comfortable with. Gabe wanted Jesse to be comfortable with him and his team, and Gabe knew that rushing in and forcing himself in close with Jesse would only end badly.

(He'd relayed his worries to Ana one night after Jesse snapped at him for repairing a hole in his shirt. Gabe was worried that Jesse would never learn to trust people again, and Gabe had just been trying to help the kid out, but Jesse took it as pity, and what if Jesse hated Gabriel already?  
Ana had just chuckled and lent Gabe a copy of a parenting book, her eyebrow raised as she nonchalantly sipped her tea. Gabe sneered sarcastically, but took the book.)

  
That was a few weeks ago.

  
Gabe was a patient man, but he was tired of waiting for the cowboy to come to him.

  
He forgot himself a bit in his eagerness to help Jesse out of the transport. The teen had encountered some trouble while scouting out the perimeter, and ended up with a small knife lodged in his thigh. To add insult to injury, it was one of those blades designed to hide in a hairbrush. The bright pink handle sticking out of the dark fatigues was quite the sight. Gabriel just hoped that one day, Jesse would see the humor in his situation.  
At first, Gabe forced himself to watch as the teen tried to limp his way down out of the transport, but once Jesse stumbled, he was over in a flash, pulling Jesse's arm over his shoulder and slipping an arm around his waist.  
Immediately Jesse pulled away, his injured leg forgotten about. Panting, the teen shot Gabe a glare.

  
"I can handle it myself, thank ya kindly."

  
Holding his hands up in the universal gesture for backing away, Gabe took a step back.

  
"You seemed like you could use a hand. Just trying to help, McCree."

  
Jesse snorted derisively and gimped away.  
Gabe followed McCree, only to see Jesse walk in the opposite direction of the med bay.  
Gabe watched in mounting disbelief as Jesse limped towards his room, fumbling with the key card. Gabe didn't need to see anymore. He marched over to McCree, grabbing the boy by his collar and marching him backwards down the hall to the med bay.

  
Jesse struggled and spat, attempting as best he could to pull himself away from Gabe.

  
"And where do you think you're going, McCree? Last time I checked, your room wasn't the med bay, and you still have a knife in your goddamn leg."

  
Jesse almost lost his footing, and decided that struggling wasn't going to do anything but get him in trouble later on. He resigned himself to being frog-marched backwards down the hall.  
"I coulda handled it myself," Jesse grumbled.

  
Gabe hated that he was in this position. He needed to get Jesse help, but the kid was hell-bent on being a dumbass. He hated that his only idea had been to forcibly grab the boy and all but drag him to the med bay, someplace the kid probably had a good enough reason to avoid, or at least dislike enough to try and pull a blade out of his leg by himself.  
As they neared the med bay, Jesse began to struggle weakly again.

  
"I don't need to go, boss, just lemme go fix it myself... I promise I can do it on my own, I'll be right as rain, don't..."

  
Jesse trailed off, and Gabriel was torn. McCree needed medical help, and there was no way in hell that Gabe was gonna let him go without that. But something was making the kid panic, and that was something that Gabe had never seen Jesse do before. Biting his lip, he pulled Jesse off to the side of the doorway to the med bay.

"McCree! Listen up!" The commanding tone sent Jesse's spine stiff as a rod as he habitually zeroed his attention in on Gabriel.

  
Gabe hesitantly placed a hand on McCree's shoulder, noting that the teen flinched a little.  
"You are going to go in there, get that goddamn knife out of you, and then you're gonna come to my office as soon as you are cleared by the doc. Is that clear, Jesse?"

  
McCree curled his lip a little at the orders, but he nodded none the less.

"Sir, yes, sir," he drawled, more like a snarl.

Gabe watched as Jesse limped his way inside the med bay. Satisfied once he saw Angela get her eyes on him, he turned and went to his office.  
Not even an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Gabe called for the visitor to come in. Jesse toed open the door, to reveal crutches and a leg swathed in bandages.

"I got stitches," Jesse reported, dropping himself into a chair opposite Gabe's desk. "And Angie said I'm not supposed to be on any mission for the next week. Said it twisted and did some damage to muscle."

  
Gabe knew. He read Angela's report as soon as she sent it.

  
"And what did we learn from this little experience?" Gabe asked, teasing a little bit. Jesse huffed and avoided eye contact, but he did mutter, "To always go to medical," to the wall.  
Gabe stood up, noting the way that Jesse's eyes immediately tracked his movement. Heart pounding, Gabe decided to test a little hypothesis. Jesse seemed on edge, and from past experience, Gabe knew that the boy didn't have any trouble with being openly defiant. Gabe took a quick step towards Jesse. His heart sank as Jesse gasped and he gripped the arms of the chair, his eyes closing tightly.

  
That was all the Gabe needed to see. He sank to his knees and sat in front of Jesse's chair.

"Talk to me, hijo. Tell me what just happened there, tell me what happened with medical."  
Jesse glared at the wall. He sounded just like the kid he was when he murmured, "Am I in trouble, sir?"

"For what?"

"For not going to medical, and then fighting against you..."

"Well, you're not in trouble so much as I want to understand what's going on in that head of yours, McCree. Can you tell me why you just flinched when I walked towards you?"  
Jesse looked down at his lap. It was deadly quiet in the office, but Gabe could barely hear the teen murmur, "Thought you were gonna beat me."

Gabe's heart broke for this kid, for the hand that life dealt him, that he couldn't just take the hurt away.

Reaching out, Gabe covered Jesse's hand in his. Jesse's arm twitched on instinct, but he didn't pull his hand away.

"Jesse, when you joined Blackwatch, I had to sign you over under my care. That means that I'm never gonna hurt you like that. It also means that I need to make sure that you stay alive, so when you don't take care of yourself, that reflects badly on me. I want you to learn how to take care of yourself. I know it's hard, and I know that Deadlock really messed you up, but I want you to learn. If not for yourself, at least for me, alright?"

Gabe stood, and pulled his hand away. Jesse struggled to lift himself from his chair, an Gabe handed him his crutches.  
Jesse nodded, lifting his chin.

"Thank you, sir."

He limped his way out of the office, letting the door swing shut behind him. Once the teen was gone, Gabe scrubbed his hand across his face. Sitting heavily behind his desk, he pulled out the parenting book Ana lent him, and started taking notes. He would need them.


	3. Skeletons (not) in the closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse didn't like people touching his things. Set earlier on in Blackwatch, like, the first week or two.

Jesse had an issue with people touching his stuff.

  
Understandable, since in Deadlock if you weren't the boss or one of this lieutenants, you probably got your stuff stolen every day and twice on Sundays.  
You had to be good at hiding your shit, or else be ready to defend it with your fists and gun.  
Once, Jesse had shot a rookie because he thought it'd be funny to try and steal Jesse's hat while he was sleeping.  
You could defend yourself from other grunts in Deadlock, but god help you if you pulled that shit on the boss.

Last guy who tried it ended up being drug behind the boss's hover bike for about two and a half miles of hot desert road.

Overwatch had rules that commanding officers had the right to go through the belongings of their men, as there could be a security breach or a bug.  
Gabriel had a different reason. Despite whatever Jesse had done in the past, he was in Blackwatch now.

He was only seventeen, and even though Jesse had drunk himself into oblivion every night before, it wasn't going to happen while Gabe had anything to say about it.

So, Gabe went through the meager pile of Jesse's belongings. He didn't like that he had to do it, but it had to be done. He was sure that Jesse would understand.  
He went through the duffel bag on Jesse's floor. Why it was stuffed under the bed, he had no idea when there was a perfectly good dresser and closet in the room.  
Gabe went through the process of sorting through Jesse's bag.

Trash (empty wrappers, expired food), clothes (socks, underwear, pants, shirts), clothes that needed repairing (to be sewed up by Gabe later that evening), and contraband.  
Contraband consisted of anything even vaguely inappropriate or compromising: a magazine or two, a few shot glasses, a pack of smokes and a lighter, and a mostly empty bottle of shitty whiskey.

It was at this time that Jesse returned to his room, only to find Gabe in the middle of his organizing.

"What the hell are you doin' with my shit?"

Jesse didn't think about who he was talking to, at first. But then Gabriel stood up, fixing Jesse with a stern look. Jesse gulped and shrank back.

"I'm checking your 'shit' for any bugs or anything that could get me, or you, in any trouble," Gabe explained, holding the bottle. "Like this. I'm afraid I can't let you drink or smoke anymore, at least not while you're underage."

Jesse seemed to tense.

"You're gonna take that stuff away?" His voice seemed tight, and Gabe didn't quite understand why.

"Yes, I am. As your CO, I have to maintain the integrity of my unit. It's nothing personal, Jesse."

That had been the wrong thing to say. Jesse began to pace back and forth. Gabe ignored the teen's muttering and gestures for him to see what he'd gathered. Holding the cigarettes and lighter in one hand, drink in the other, Gabe pointed towards the empty closet.

"It's there for you to use it, McCree. You don't have to shove things under your bed anymore, you know."  
Anxiously, Jesse popped the knuckles in his hands before asking,  
"Why'd you do this? Why're you stealin' from me? You could have anything you wanted, you don't gotta take it from me."

Gabe pondered the words before he realized what was happening. He ran a hand through his and replaced his beanie while choosing his words.

"I'm not stealing from you, Jesse. It's a matter of legality. You're seventeen, you can't smoke for another year and you sure as hell aren't gonna drink until you're of age. You're my responsibility now, and I can't be responsible for letting you drink yourself to death before you're even an adult. I'm sorry that I have to do this. But if I don't, Jack probably would, and he'd sooner go and dump all of your shit out the window."

Gabe stooped to pick up the clothes that needed fixing.

"I'll bring these back tomorrow, Jesse, I promise. Nobody here is gonna steal from you, I'll tell you that. Especially not me."

Gabe bumped the door open with his hip. He nodded to the closet.

"Try that out, Jesse. This is your home now. Try putting down roots."


	4. Burnt macaroni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or: How Jesse McCree ended up with a new little sister, and Fareeha Amari ended up with a new big brother.

Jesse wasn't good with kids.

He was always scared that he was going to drop them, or step on them, or scar them for life. Jesse had no idea how to interact with kids; do you handle them with (literal) kid gloves, or do you treat them like tiny adults?

Nonetheless, kids loved Jesse.

Maybe it was the hat and the novelty of seeing a cowboy in real life, maybe it was his attitude and happy-go-lucky personality. Either way, anytime that Jesse was around kids, he became a human jungle gym in a matter of minutes.

Jesse thought he was safe from tiny terrors at the Overwatch base.

He was wrong.

Jesse really, really didn't like kids, and he tried to explain as much to Gabe when the man volunteered Jesse to babysit Captain Amari's daughter. But Gabe had other ideas.

"It'll be good for you, Jesse! You've spent the past few months surrounded by adults, you can spend an evening with an eleven-year-old girl."

Jesse tried to protest. The last time he was with kids had been before he joined Deadlock.

Gabe didn't cave to Jesse's pleads, he just smiled and walked Jesse to the door of Captain Amari's quarters at half past six.

After a knock, the door opened to reveal a little girl in a blue and white dress, her hair decorated with golden beads. Jesse could see how in a year or two this girl would be the spitting image of her mama.

"Uncle Gabi!"

The girl all but leapt at Gabe, who chuckled fondly and returned the enthusiastic hug. Gabe started to herd the girl inside. When Jesse didn't move inside, he grabbed the shirking teen by his shirt collar and all but dragged him inside.

Jesse looked around at the spacious apartment, the white carpet and kitchen and two couches and tv across from a wide window that looked out over the training fields and onto the vast horizon. Jesse was even pretty sure he could hear a washing machine clanking along down the hall.

The girl was still talking animatedly to Gabe, the beads in her hair clacking together as she spoke. Eventually, she seemed to take notice of the stranger in her home, because she stopped talking and fixed Jesse with a cold, clear stare.

"Uncle Gabi, who is this?"   
Gabe gestured to the lanky teen.   
"This is Jesse, he's gonna be watching you this evening. Jesse, this is Fareeha Amari."

At his introduction, Jesse tipped the brim of his hat to Fareeha. She didn't blink.   
Gabe raised his eyebrows, clapped Jesse on the shoulder, and went for the door.

"Ana said there's money for a movie by the fridge," he called over his shoulder.

Fareeha ran to give him one last hug, which Gabe accepted with a smile, before he left.

That was fifteen minutes ago.

Jesse and Fareeha sat on opposite couches, locked in the most intense stare down he had ever been in.

Fareeha sat back into her cushion, eying Jesse with the same steely precision he had seen her mother use, right before blowing some poor bastard's head off.

Jesse sat forward on his seat, unwilling to mess up the couch. The entire apartment was well lived-in, evident by the numerous blankets and pillows tossed on the couch. Jesse was white knuckling the "live laugh love" throw pillow, making sure his gaze didn't waver from the little girl.

Neither of them blinked, nor dared to move.

This carries on for another while before Fareeha leaned forward, her skinny arms crossed over her chest. In a tone of voice that Jesse thought would have been better for interrogation, Fareeha said, "I want macaroni and cheese."

Jesse blinked.

"Don' know if I know how to make that," he replied evenly. Jesse was certain that this was a test.

Fareeha slid off the couch to dig around in the kitchen cabinet. Triumphant, she held aloft a blue box. Jesse clambered to his feet to investigate.

Reading the instructions, it seemed easy enough. Boil water, add noodles, drain water, add cheese sauce. Jesse could do that.

Jesse could not do that, apparently.

Five minutes after Jesse added the noodles, Fareeha started to show Jesse her martial arts medals, which quickly dissolved into wrestling, and the pasta boiled over, the noodles landing on the burner and almost caught in fire, but the smoke alarm went off before that happened.

Jesse and Fareeha stared at the burnt food and scorched pot and smoking ring around the burner.

Fareeha shrugged, and turned to Jesse, who was still scratching his head over how he could mess up the "boil water" part of macaroni and cheese.

"Let's go steal a pizza."  
Jesse raised an eyebrow and looked at the girl. They were out of dinner ideas anyways.

They stole a pizza from the mess hall, Fareeha using her reputation and adorableness that she could turn on at a moment's notice to sneak them into the kitchens, Jesse turning up his southern charm to distract the cooks while Fareeha grabbed an entire pizza. Somehow, it worked, and the two of them made it back up to the Amari apartment with nobody noticing them or their precious cargo.

The two of them ate and watched an old western movie until Fareeha fell asleep on Jesse's shoulder. Not too long after, Jesse fell asleep on the Amari's couch.

Ana returned after a mission to find the two children deep in sleep on her couch, and a burnt mess on her stove. Smirking, Ana took a picture and sent it to Gabe. The caption read: "you were right, he is a good babysitter."


	5. Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kids and parents argue sometimes, right?

They were fighting.

Jesse was at his wits end with Gabriel. The man insisted on treating him like a kid, when Jesse was fully capable of taking care of himself. Gabe had other ideas.

The whole thing started when Jesse had been forced to use his Deadeye on the last mission.

Jesse had been separated from the rest of the squadron and chased down the streets of Illios. Backed into an alley by seven men, Jesse had no choice but to defend himself with lethal force. Jesse was in his element, this war and chaos was where Jesse McCree was born, and where Jesse McCree thrived. It was like Jesse was back in the desert. He swore he could feel the sand against his skin, hear the rattle of a passing tumbleweed.

Grinning darkly, Jesse looked up from under the brim of his hat at the men closing in on him. None of them faltered in their approach,  
until Jesse drew his gun.

" _It's high noon_ ," Jesse growled, and then in a burst of speed, Jesse fanned the hammer. The seven men dropped to the ground, dead, bullet holes between their eyes.

Once Jesse blew the smoke away from his gun and holstered it, he became aware of Reyes yelling over the comms.

"–sse! Report in! McCree! That's an order, McCree!"

Jesse held a shaking hand to the comm in his ear and spoke.

"All clear, boss. I'm alright."

But Jesse wasn't really alright. Using Deadeye took a lot out of him. Back in Deadlock, he was all but forced to use it almost every week. There was a physical toll, as well as an emotional one. Jesse relied on prolonged danger to put him in a situation where he was desperate or able to use Deadeye, and he expended a lot of energy to shoot that quickly and accurately, not including shooting bullets that his gun didn't always have. Jesse didn't understand how it worked, all he knew or cared was that it did work, and it saved his ass too many times for him to care. Jesse had seen too many men drop dead at his hand in his seventeen years, and it leaves a mark, no matter how often he kills.

The adrenaline was rapidly leaving Jesse as he slurred into the comms.

"I'm doin' just fine, boss, don' worry about me..."

Jesse slumped against the wall of the alley, staring blankly into the eyes of a dead man. When Jesse's eyes slowly closed, the dead man's stared on, boring guilt deep into Jesse.   
\- - - - -   
When Jesse awoke, he didn't know where he was at first. The walls and sheets were blindingly white, and the sound of beeping was what woke Jesse. His sleep-addled mind made him reach for his alarm, mumbling angrily, but a pulling sensation his his arm made his stop.

There was an IV line connecting his arm to a machine. Panic kicked Jesse's brain into high gear, and his heart monitor wailed as his heart rate spiked. The loud noise woke up Gabe, who had dozed off in a chair by Jesse's bedside.

Gabe woke up just in time to see Jesse yank out his IV and attempt to get out of the bed.

Gabriel tackled Jesse back into the bed, the startled teen struggling for all he was worth.

Angela came into the room, summoned by the shrill alarms, but Gabe waved her away with a frantic hand. She ducked out and wisely locked the door from the outside.

The teen grunted and growled under Gabe, still fighting to get away.

"Get... offa... me...," he all but snarled. In hindsight, Gabe reflected, tackling an on-edge agent wasn't the best idea, but he wanted to stop Jesse before he hurt himself.

"Jesse," Gabriel tried, hoping to smooth the teen. "Jesse, I need you to calm down for me. You're safe, you're alright."

At first the words had no effect, but as Jesse began to wear himself out, he began to come back to himself. The teen blearily looked up at Gabe, feeling exhausted but awake enough to be ashamed of himself.

Jesse let his head fall back on to the twisted bedsheets, embarrassment mounting. Gabe crawled off the bed and adjusted his beanie, torn between wanting to give Jesse space and knowing that Jesse needed to talk some stuff out.

Jesse rolled on to his side with a huff, pulling the hospital sheets up to his chin.

Gabe took his seat by the bedside back. He knew that when pushed, Jesse would talk, but only if he was pushed to.

"Jesse," he began, but the teen grunted.

"Go 'way."

Gabe stayed.

"Jesse, I-"

Jesse sat upright in his bed, his fingers curled into tight claws in the sheets.

"I said, go _away_!"

Gabe was silent. He was mostly shocked, because no matter how often he pushed Jesse like this, the boy had never snapped at him like this.

Gabe raised an eyebrow, and Jesse fell into a mutinous silence.

"McCree, I'm worried about you using Deadeye like that. It hurts you, and I can't have you hurting yourself like that. You could've called the team to help you, but you didn't. Why?"

Jesse stared right at Gabe. It was a challenge, the same kind of stare that Jesse had fixed him with when he was just some punk chained to a table in an interrogation room.

"Why do y' care?"

Gabe almost couldn't believe the words out of Jesse's mouth. Why did he care? Why wouldn't he care! Here was some kid with no options besides a cell, and Gabe sticks his neck out to save him, care for him. Gabe cares because not only would he be losing a huge investment on his part, he cares for Jesse.

"Because you deserve it, mijo."

That catches Jesse off guard, but only for a moment.

He regrets the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, but it's too late to take them back. Jesse has been hurt, and he's in a mood to do some hurting.

_"I ain't your kid, Reyes."_

Gabriel knows it's true, but the words still sting more than he expected. Gabe stands up, and walks out of the hospital room, without saying another word. He needed advice.

Jesse curled up on his side, facing away from the door. He blinked tears away, trying not to cry. The events of the day and mission were catching up to his, and he had been cashing checks his body couldn't keep up with. Still silently crying, Jesse slipped into fitful sleep.   
\- - - - - - - - - -   
Gabe knocked on the door to Ana's apartment. The door opened to reveal the sniper, who already seemed to know what happened.

Ana beckoned Gabe inside, thrusting a cup of tea in his hands.

"Fareeha is at martial arts," she said by way of greeting. They sat on the living room couches, facing each other.

Gabe sipped at his tea contemplating where to go next.

Ana watched his over the rim of her cup.

"You fought."

This was why Gabe went to Ana. She didn't bother to sugarcoat the truth, and she would give him frank advice with little judgement.

Nodding, Gabe relayed the situation to Ana. He knew that she cared for Jesse. She had a soft spot in her heart for the boy, and he and Fareeha were as thick as thieves.

"I just don't know what to do for him," Gabe explained. He was getting more worked up, standing and pacing back and forth.

"He keeps doing all of these fucked up behaviors that he learned in Deadlock, and he won't let me in to help him. I would consider putting him in therapy, but I don't know if he would respond to that at all, and I just want to help him."

Ana listened carefully to Gabe's tirade.

"He's worried that if he can't contribute, he'll be kicked out or killed," Gabe continued, "but he keeps hurting himself and doesn't rely on the team."

Ana sipped her tea.

"He doesn't trust you or the team."

Gabe paused.

"What?"

"He doesn't trust the team. Or you. He hurts himself using Deadeye, he doesn't say anything. In Deadlock, he probably would have been ditched if he let on how bad he was feeling. He's scared that you'll do the same thing."

Gabe looked like a deer in the headlights.

"But I haven't done anything to give Jesse that idea! That's not fai-" Ana cut him off with a look.

"It doesn't matter if you have or not, the point is that Jesse is scared and hurt. His well being takes precedence over your feelings in this matter."

Gabe looked ashamed.

"In addition," Ana continued, "he's obviously got some sort of trauma he's dealing with from Deadlock. Trauma and instinct reaction doesn't care if you're a friend or enemy. You need to talk to him."

Gabe was eager to rush back to Jesse's hospital room and make up.   
He felt bad for walking out like that.

Thanking Ana for her tea and hospitality, Gabe let himself out and ran down the base to Jesse.   
\- - - - - - -   
Jesse was awake. He was ashamed of himself for crying, for snapping at Gabe like that. Gabriel, who saves him from a prison sentence, who looked after Jesse like a son.

Jesse started as the door opened. Sitting up slowly, Jesse turned to see Gabe standing in the doorway. Jesse mumbled a greeting to Gabriel, who pulled off his beanie and ran a hand over his head. They both looked at each other for a few tense seconds before they both started talking at the same time.

"Jesse, I-"

"I wasn't in-"

"I want you to-"

"I shoulda-"

Gabe held up his hand.

Jesse fell silent, his arms crossed.

Gabe hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed, relieved when Jesse didn't shove him off or something.

"Jesse, I'm worried about you," he began, "In worried that you think that I'll ditch you at the first opportunity. That the team, all of Blackwatch will dump you back in that gorge, or in prison at the first slip up."

Jesse didn't reply. Gabe carried on, trying to let Jesse know he wasn't lying.

"Please, Jesse. I'm asking you to trust me."

The room was dead silent before Jesse spoke.

"It hurts, sometimes."

Gabe remained quiet, allowing Jesse time to gather his thoughts.

"It- it hurts me to use Deadeye. Makes me tired. And then there's the dead. Left starin' at me."

To Jesse's horror, he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

"I never wanted to- to become this."

Gabe watched as silent sobs shook Jesse's body. Carefully, he put his arm around him and pulled the boy close. Jesse cried into his shoulder until he cried himself to sleep, while Gabriel texted Angela about the therapists on base.


	6. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the ultimate parental guilt trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow ok I'm so sorry that this took so long to update!! School finished, and for some reason it took all of my insiration with it.

Going from Deadlock to Blackwatch was a bit of a culture shock to Jesse.

Safe sleeping quarters? An actual bed? Guaranteed food three times every day? It was all so much.

People who were on his side? Like, actually on his side, rooting for him, instead of a temporary alliance for small gains? Practically unheard of in Deadlock, but commonplace in Blackwatch.

Leaders who wanted him to try his best at all times, even if he was better than them?

That one really threw Jesse for a loop.

Jesse was used to the capricious bosses and cruel lieutenants of Deadlock. He learned at the tender age of twelve that you could be good at something, but god help you if someone who was higher up than you thought they were better. Didn't matter how good you were, if you weren't at the top of the pecking order then you were dispensable.

A few months after Jesse joined Deadlock, there was an incident with two of the gang members. One of the new recruits had challenged Ol' Surefire to a drag race. The recruit won by about a hundred foot gap, despite Ol' Surefire's longstanding record of victories.

Jesse watched from the guardrail as the rookie was beaten to death by the angry loser.

Jesse learned that day that sometimes it was better to throw your shot away, and live to shoot another day.

A little while after Gabe took Jesse in, he decided to do some one-on-one shooting practice with the boy. It would keep them both sharp and give Gabe a chance to practice his skills with a revolver.

The two set off to the range, and after about an hour of shooting, Gabe could see that Jesse was getting bored of shooting the targets.

"Why don't we make this a little more interesting?" Gabe asked, noting the bored teen's expression.

"Let's make this a competition. You outshoot me in twenty seconds, we go off base for dinner tonight, your choice. I outshoot you, you give me no complaints during drills tomorrow. Sound like a deal?"

Jesse smiled peevishly from under the brim of his hat.

"Sounds like a good damn bet to me, jefe."

Gabe didn't notice the way that Jesse began to tense up, the sweat at his brow.

It was a test, Jesse decided. A test to see how likely he was to try and overthrow Gabe. Or at least a test of how important Jesse thought he was. He had to fail. He had to throw his shot. But only by a little bit, he didn't want Gabriel to think he was a complete waste of his time. He also didn't want Gabe to know he had figured out his test.

So on his last shot, Jesse closed one of his eyes, skewing his depth perception. The bullet landed in the outer ring of the target.

Jesse hoped with all his might that Gabe didn't notice.

Gabe noticed.

He saw the tight cluster of bullet holes in the center ring of the target, and the one shot way off to the side. Gabe knew that Jesse was an amazing shot. Hell, during the raid on the Deadlock gang, Jesse had shot the knife right out of DelRosso's hand from fifty feet away. So Gabe knew that the rogue shot was thrown away.

Gabriel turned to McCree, who was doing his best to remain nonchalant. Gabe gestured to the lone hole.

"What is this, Jesse?"

Jesse shrugged his shoulders and shuffled his feet, not meeting Gabe's eyes.

"Guess I missed," he mumbled.

Gabe raised an eyebrow.

"You missed. Nine out of ten shots were perfect, but one you... just missed?"

Jesse looked at the floor, and shoved his hands in his back pockets, trying to hide the trembling in them. He fucked up, he fucked up real bad this time. It was because it was so obvious, he thought. Should have gone for the ring right next to the center, that's what he'd do next time.

"'M real sorry, boss," Jesse muttered, daring to glance up at Gabe.

His face was unreadable, perfectly emotionless. But to Jesse, that was way worse than flat out screaming.

Gabe sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You can do better than this, Jesse. I know you can, I've seen you do it."

Now Jesse was confused. Gabe wanted him to do better? Better than him?

Gabe watched Jesse's face, and the stark, evident confusion there made Gabriel want to hug the poor kid. Jesse knew he did wrong, but he didn't expect Gabe to be mad at him for wasting his shot.

Gabe clapped a hand on Jesse's shoulder, making the boy flinch wildly.

"Jesse," he began, "I will always want you to perform to the best of your abilities. Every single time."

Jesse jerked his head up, surprised.

"Even if I beat you?"

Gabe smiled.

"Especially then."

Gabe slung his arm around Jesse's shoulders. He thought that the boy deserved a nice dinner.

"We're going out for dinner, McCree. But I get to pick where tonight!"


	7. Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm gonna try and update once a month... sorrry for the wait!

The first time that Jack Morrison saw Jesse McCree was when Jesse made a mad scramble for freedom down the halls of the Overwatch base, busting Jack's nose in the process.

The second time that Jack saw Jesse was when Gabe stopped by Jack's office to drop off some files, with Jesse in tow behind him.

"Thought I might swing by," Gabe said, plopping the files down on top of a precariously leaning stack of similar paperwork on Jack's desk, "and see how you were doing."

Jack raised an eyebrow at Gabe and flicked his eyes towards the teen lurking in the doorway of his office.

"I'm doing just fine, Gabriel. Now, who is this?"

Gabe stifled a grin and gestured Jesse over to him.

"Jackie, you remember Jesse McCree, don't you?"

Oh, Jack did. The scrawny ruffian who head butted him so hard his nose broke, the one who brought down a storm of paperwork for emancipation of a minor, the kid who made Gabriel so happy to have around- yeah, how could Jack forget about Jesse McCree.

"Certainly." Jack said, looking the boy up and down. He was surprised that Gabe's pet project had even stuck around.

Jesse shuffled his feet, but looked Jack in the eye.

Jack quickly finished signing off one last form before putting his pen down. He could feel a headache coming on, and he needed to call the French ambassador before noon.

Gabe, ever aware of how busy Jack was, decided it was time for them to take their leave.

"Dinner at eight, right? I've got a table for us at that Italian place you like."

That sounded wonderful. Jack smiled up at Gabe.

"Sounds like a plan. See you then."

Gabe leaned down to try and give Jack a quick kiss, but Jack gently smushed his face aside.

" _Not in front of the kid,_ " he hissed quietly.

Gabe pulled back, his eyes twinkling amusedly.

"I see how it is," he teased. "Come on, Jesse, I can tell when I'm not wanted!"

The two left, and Jack smiled to himself before turning to a fresh pile of papers. 

* * *

  
"So, what did you think of the great Strike-Commander Morrison?" Gabe asked Jesse as the two made their way to the track.

Jesse chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, before asking, "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Granted."

"He seems like a he has a stick up his ass, Sir."

Gabe laughed.

"Sometimes, yeah."

"Is he really as great as everybody makes him out to be?"

Gabe smiled widely, and shook his head.

"He's alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok yea the main purpose of this chapter is to establish that Jack and Gabe are together... Jesse has two dads (don't worry Gabe is his main dad)


	8. Milestones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was done in honor of my dad's birthday! Happy birthday, Dad!

Gabriel was up at four in the morning, going through his mental checklist for the day. Step one, pack all necessary supplies. Step two, shut his room up and drop the key off at Ana's apartment, just in case he didn't make it back. Step three, ready the men. Step four, make it to the tarmac in time for liftoff.

It was a big day ahead of Gabe.

Jesse was getting an award.

It was Jesse's first time getting recognized outside of Blackwatch for something he did on the battlefield, and both Gabe and Jesse were nervous about it.

Jesse had been holding his position in a back alley as per orders when he had noticed the terrorists that they were tracking plant a bomb on the base of the building across the street from Jesse.

Thinking quickly, Jesse commed Gabe and alerted him to the situation before running across and examining the bomb. He recognized the type, Deadlock had used them all the time, but he didn't know how to deactivate it.

Instead, he began evacuating all of the civilians he could.

Thanks to Jesse's quick thinking, over one hundred civilians were saved.

Jack was impressed with Jesse and his actions, so he decided to give the teenager an award.

It would be a whole thing, on the news and all.

That meant showing up hours ahead of time, formal outfits, makeup and lighting and tech and all.

It was a pain to get Jesse up.

Naturally, like all teenagers, Jesse thought it was an act of extreme cruelty to be made to be awake before noon. He made this very clear by groaning as loud as he could once Gabe opened his door, and shoving his head under the covers.

Gabriel chuckled and approached the ball of blankets.

"Up and at 'em, ingrate!" he called cheerfully, gently shaking Jesse.

Jesse groaned once again before raising his head, his hair a mess and eyes crusted with sleep.

"Wha' time issit?" the teen slurred, blearily rubbing his eyes.

"About four-thirty in the morning," Gabe replied.

Jesse glared at the floor in the way that only the extremely tired do. Gabe took pity on the kid.

"If we can leave the base before five, I'll buy you breakfast and coffee before the flight," he wheedled.

The mention of coffee was enough to drag Jesse from his bed, throwing the covers back with a small "I'm up, I'm up."

Gabe left the room to allow Jesse to change and checked his watch. Everything was going according to schedule. Jack would kill him if Jesse was late.

Five minutes later, Jesse stumbled out of the doorway, his hat atop his head and his formalwear in a garment bag slung over his shoulder.

One quick pit stop at Jesse's favorite diner and the two were off to the airfield to board Jack's private jet.

Jesse was used to the crowded transports on missions, but he had never been inside a private plane before. His eyes widened at the suede seats and crystalline decanters of whiskey in secured cabinets.

"Jus' like the movies," he whispered, more to himself than to Gabe.

"Boss, you're tellin' me that you get to fly around in this thing all the time?"

Gabe laughed.

"Nice, isn't it? I get to use it whenever Jack doesn't need it. Perks of dating the Strike-Commander."

The flight took off with little fanfare, but Gabe was all too amused with how Jesse all but pressed himself out the window in his eagerness to look out of it. The transport ships didn't have windows, it was probably Jesse's first time seeing the world from a plane.

Gabe sneakily snapped a picture of the kid and sent it to Jack, captioned ' _on our way_ '.

The flight was relatively short, and they touched down in D.C. around six thirty.

The two made their way to the hall where Jack would be giving the award. The ceremony was to start at nine, and would be done by nine fourth five at the latest, but there was still a lot to be done.

Press would have to be screened before entering the hall, television crews would go through the same process as the press but more rigorous, equipment would have to be set up and tested, and the mayor of the city where the incident occurred would be flown in and present for the ceremony.

 _Jack pulled out all the strings for this one_ , Gabe mused.

In the meantime, Jesse would have to be stuffed into his formalwear and have that adjusted, makeup crews would make sure that he looked presentable for appearance on national television, and Gabe himself had to be part of the group onstage, as he was Jesse's commanding officer.

The hours flew by in a blur, until it was finally the last ten minutes before Jesse and Gabe would be required on stage.

Jesse struggled with his tie. He had never learned to tie one, never had someone to teach him and there was never a reason on base for him to wear one.

With a soft knock on the door to Jesse's dressing room, Gabe stuck his head in the doorway.

"Everything going alright, Jesse?"

Jesse turned to him, his tie hanging limply around his neck.

"Can't figure the damn thing out," he muttered.

Gabe grabbed hold of the ends and walked Jesse through the steps. After they finished, Gabe spun Jesse around to look in the mirror.   
He stood behind Jesse with a hand on the teen's shoulder, beaming down at the boy.

Jesse stared back.

"I'm proud of you, Jesse."

Jesse looked up at him, uncertain.

"Not just for the medal, I'm proud of you for all that you've done here. You're becoming a real man now, somebody that I'm happy and proud to call my son."

To his shock, Jesse found himself tearing up.

"You really mean that?"

Gabe nodded, smiling down at Jesse.

"Absolutely, mijo."

Jesse turned at buried his face in Gabe's chest, pulling him into a strong hug.

"Thanks, Dad."

Jack watched from the doorway. He had come to get the two of them, but that could wait. They needed to have a moment.


	9. Teenage angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been over a month; I promise this work hasn't been abandoned!!!! 
> 
> I've started college and in addition to the new stress and schedule that brings, I haven't been around my dad who is an inspiration for a lot of these. 
> 
> I will try my hardest to still update once a month!!

Gabe liked his office. Despite- and often because of- how often he was stuck in there doing paperwork and reports, Gabe loved his office. It was spacious, with a wall of windows behind his desk, a private bathroom off to the left, and a plush couch across from the desk.

Gabe kept a pile of blankets and a few pillows under a small side table next to the couch- God knows how many times he'd fallen asleep there, too tired after mission reports or too wound up to sleep in his own apartment.

The rest of the office was well decorated, and after the first of September, Gabriel had eagerly dug out his box of Halloween supplies and decorated. Pumpkins lined his bookshelves, clingy stickers of black cats and ghosts stuck to the windows, and the nameplate on his desk had been replaced with a little gravestone.

But coming into his office one afternoon gave Gabriel a fright. He'd had a long morning; tasks piled one on top of another. A nasty bout of flu going around the base had several of his agents unable to work for the next week, including the one who was in charge of running drills in the mornings, so that task fell to Gabriel. There were the reports from the last mission that had to be sent to the UN. There was some hullabaloo in the medbay over one of Gabe's agents having an allergic reaction to a sedative.

Basically, things were not going Gabe's way, so you couldn't really blame him for being off his game when he entered his office.

See, Gabe liked to keep his office unlocked and open for any of his agents to use anytime they needed or wanted in. (His computer and files were all locked to hell, but that's just common sense.) It was a way for Gabriel to make the people under his command trust him.

That afternoon, Jesse decided he wanted into the office.

Gabe didn't even notice the teenager curled up in a pile of blankets on the couch until he dropped his work on the desk and turned the lights on.

At the sound of heavy files being dropped, Jesse stirred and murmured, startling Gabriel.

Cursing up a storm, Gabe marched over to the couch and yanked the top blanket off the pile.

Still under that, Jesse was wrapped in two more blankets, with just his face peeking out.

If he still wasn't trying to get his heart rate under control, Gabe might have laughed.

But the humor faded quickly when Gabe saw Jesse's red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks.

Even after a year and a half, Jesse was still unlearning the toxic things Deadlock taught him. One such example was showing emotions, especially negative ones. Jesse still became ashamed and embarrassed to be caught crying. And, in order to control that embarrassment and shame, Jesse still lashed out at anyone who brought it up to him.

Not wanting to once more be on the receiving end of Jesse's rage, Gabe raised his eyebrows.   
  
"Anything I can do for you, _vaquero_?"

Jesse was silent for a few moments before muttering, "Can you put the blanket back?"

Gabriel chuckled as he draped the blanket back over the cocoon of teenager and fleece.

"You'll suffocate," he called as he made his way over to his desk.

"Good," Jesse called back.

Gabe pulled his sewing machine out from under his desk, as well as his project from a secret drawer he kept locked at all times.

"I'm right here if you wanna talk, McCree."

All he got in response was long, drawn-out groan.

Gabe shrugged, even though Jesse wouldn't see it. Sighing to himself, he turned the machine on and began sewing. Soon, he got lost in the rhythm of pushing the pedal and pulling the fabric and tugging the pins out before he passed over them.

After about three quarters of an hour, Jesse gathered a blanket around him, still with only his face showing, and shuffled over to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"What'cha makin'?"

Gabe paused to stick the pin he was holding between his lips into the pincushion.

"Fareeha wanted to be," he held up air quotes, "a bird princess, for Halloween. So I'm making a dress in peacock colors, and it'll have a feather crown and feathers in it once I'm done with the body."

Jesse smiled fondly.

"Bet she'll love it."

Gabe returned to his work, but spoke loudly over the machine.  
  
"So what's up, _hijo_?"

Jesse groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"I tried to ask out Auggie today," he mumbled.

Gabe tried to keep the surprise off his face.

Auggie was a friend of Angela's from her medical school, and Jesse had been head-over-heels for him. Jesse had gone to the medbay for an average post-mission checkup, and when the new doctor had gone to check Jesse over, he was so excited about McCree's cowboy gear that he invited McCree to watch old western movies with him later in the week.   
  
Jesse had fallen fast for Augustus, aka Auggie, and Gabe never heard the end of it.

But now, the kid looked so heartbroken that Gabe wished he would go on about the man.

"And how did that go?", he asked carefully.

Jesse's face screwed up. "He's got a girlfriend. Just found out today. Didn't know what to do, so I came here. "

Oh, hell. Poor kid.

But on the brighter side, Gabe knew that this all would pass quickly. He'd learned from Ana and Fareeha that teenage angst never lasted longer than a week, max.

"That sucks, kiddo."

Jesse groaned and seemed to retreat even further into his blanket.

Gabe considered the teenager.

"Do you want me to do anything for you?"

Jesse shook his head.

Sometimes, Gabriel forgot Jesse was just a kid. He might have killed, saved hundreds of people, uprooted Gabe's life- Jesse was still just a teenager. He got crushes and heartbreak and shitty days, just like any other kid his age.

It was a bit of a wake-up call for Gabe.

He reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled out his stash of candy.

Jesse extended an arm from the blanket, and carefully selected a piece from the proffered stash, before retracting the arm back into the blanket.

Gabe smiled to himself.

"Any thing else, McCree?"

"I think I mighta caught that flu."

It was Gabriel's turn to groan. Yeah, he was definitely still a kid.


	10. Jesse Gets Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *cue It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia music* 
> 
> Sometimes, teenagers break laws that seem stupid to them. Gabe doesn’t know How To Parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m not dead! This one was supposed to be short, What Happened. I hope y’all like it!

For the most part, Jesse found himself adjusting to life in Blackwatch as well as he could. There was food available every day, three times a day. There was medical care, and Gabe had started working with Jesse one-on-one three times a week to help catch him up to speed with the rest of the Blackwatch agents. Jesse liked everything and everyone well enough, except for one tiny thing: Reyes had taken his cigarettes.

At least, the ones he knew about.

Jesse was no stranger to people stealing his things, in Deadlock, you had to be ready to protect your property at a moment’s notice. So, after the third time Jesse was sloppy and had his shit stolen while he was asleep, he got crafty. Inside the lining of his hat was a stash of a carton of Camels, a lighter, and his lucky playing cards.

Going cold turkey was something Jesse never considered until Gabe all but forced it on him, so he was doing his best to ration his last smokes until he could find a way to get more. Maybe he could bribe another agent into buying him some from the little shop on the base... but if they were Blackwatch, they’d probably rat him out to Gabe. Jesse considered his actions as he huddled on the roof of the base, cigarette clenched between his teeth.

‘ _Ain’t no loyalty among thieves here_ ,’ he mused, taking a long drag. Damn Reyes and his rules. Jesse exhaled the smoke in one long stream. Sure, he could train to kill and assassinate for some government bigwigs who never worked a day in their lives, but he sure as hell couldn’t poison his lungs until he was eighteen.

Jesse took another drag. His comm beeped in his pocket, and he pulled it out.

“Speak of the devil,” Jesse muttered, smoke curling around the words. Sure enough, his comm displayed a message from Reyes, glowing in the smoke hanging in the air.

 **G. Reyes** : _Where are you? I need to talk to you about your recruitment process. Report to my office immediately._

Jesse scoffed and put his comm back in his pocket. If he ignored it, maybe Gabe would think he was sleeping or showering or something. Jesse took one more drag, savoring the burn in his throat. The ember crept closer to his fingers, so he decided that he would be done with it soon.

Jesse didn’t have time to take one last drag, because the door to the roof slammed open with so much force it bounced off the doorstop and back to whoever opened it. Jesse’s head whipped around to see a very, _very_ irate Gabriel Reyes, holding his comm in one hand, and a fierce glare in his eyes.

“McCree!”, he shouted, and only years of practice kept Jesse from dropping his still-lit cigarette butt on the ground. He tried to shift his hand as subtly as he could to keep the butt from Gabe’s line of sight.

Of course, years of practice also meant that Gabe picked up on it instantly, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you smoking, McCree?”

“Nah,” Jesse denied instantly, but it was ruined by the smoke billowing out of his nose and mouth as he spoke.

Gabe marched over to him, boots crunching gravel menacingly. Jesse quickly dropped and crushed the butt under his boot before Reyes all but grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him back inside.

Gabe had a hold on his collar all the way to the elevator, Jesse hissing and spitting the whole way.

“Get offa me, I can walk myself, Jefe, don’ need you to carry me all the damn way-“ “Shut up,” Gabe growled. Jesse considered arguing, but his self preservation instincts won out, so he did as he was told. Once they were in the closed doors of the elevator, Gabe released Jesse. Jesse slouched against the wall, looking as petulant as possible. Gabe didn’t look at him until they reached the floor Blackwatch was mainly based on.

“You’re going straight to your room, McCree,” he said. As the doors slid open, Jesse made to slink away. “Sure thing, boss man, I’ll just-“

Gabe cut him off with a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be walking you there,” he said, and his tone left no room for argument.

Gabe marched Jesse down the hall, the hand on his shoulder almost on the verge of painful, paying no attention to the curious glances the two of them attracted on the way. Jesse tried to emulate him, tried to not give a fuck about the prying eyes, but he knew that news spread fast in Blackwatch, and it wouldn’t be long until everybody knew about the deadbeat gangster kid who disobeyed Reyes’s orders and got himself locked up in his room on probation.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally reached Jesse’s room. Gabe steered Jesse inside, and the door slid shut behind them. Gabe crossed his arms, tapping his foot.

“Alright, Jesse, the jig is up. Hand ‘em over.” Jesse considered lying, saying it was his last one, he had no more, or just outright refusing to give them up. But he knew that the punishments for lying or refusing would be worse than whatever he was gonna get now, so he took his hat off his head and pulled out the carton of cigarettes, handing it over to Gabe. As he did, he expected immediate punishment from his CO, but instead, Gabe’s anger seemed to morph into something else. “I’m disappointed, McCree. I thought you could do better than this.” With that, he turned towards the door, typing something into his comm and swiping his keycard against the panel that controlled the door.

“I’m locking the door until morning,” he explained. “Someone will bring you dinner, and the door will unlock at oh-five-hundred. I still expect you at training at seven. See you tomorrow, Jesse.”

With that, he left.

Gabe walked as fast as he could to his office, which was fortunately empty. He slumped in his chair, placing the carton of cigarettes on his desk. The slightly crumpled box seemed to mock his, taunting him. ‘Your men aren’t loyal,’ it whispered. Gabe crushed it in his fist and threw it in the garbage. Pulling out his comm, he typed out a quick message to Ana.

  
 **G. Reyes** : _I think I may have just grounded a kid who wasn’t mine_

After a few short moments, Ana replied.

 **A. Amari** : _Was it my kid?_  
 **G. Reyes** : _No_  
 **A. Amari** : _Good. Now tell me about it._  
 **G. Reyes** : _I caught McCree smoking, so I put him in his room on lockdown until morning. Took the smokes. Do you think you could bring him dinner around 6?_  
 **A. Amari** : _Yikes. And yes, no problem._   
**G. Reyes** : _Thanks_.

Guilt still plagued the edges of Gabriel’s mind.

 **G. Reyes** : _Do you think I made the wrong decision? He shouldn’t be smoking underage._  
 **A. Amari** : _Did he disobey your orders?_  
 **G. Reyes** : _Yes_.  
 **A. Amari** : _Then, no. Is the smoking a new habit of his?_

Realization dawned in Gabe’s mind.

 **G. Reyes** : _No. Shit. I took away most of his smokes the first week he came in. I guess I never realized he was actually smoking, I assumed he was using them as bargaining chips within Deadlock._  
 **A. Amari** : _Then there’s your problem. Kid’s trying to avoid withdrawal._  
 **G. Reyes** : _Shit. Fuck. Ana, I fucked up. Help? I’ll do your laundry for a month._  
 **A. Amari** : _That includes Fareeha’s stuff, too._  
 **A. Amari** : _Explain your view to him. He’s a smart kid, despite doing stupid shit. He’ll probably understand._  
 **G. Reyes** : _‘probably’?_  
 **A. Amari** : _He’s a teenager. They can be remarkably stupid sometimes._  
 **G. Reyes** : _So, basically, talk this out with him?_  
 **A. Amari** : _Yes. Don’t apologize for what you did, you have good reasons. But maybe pick up some nicotine patches or something._  
 **G. Reyes** : _Noted. I’m not his parent, but it always this hard?_  
 **A. Amari** : _Sometimes, but it’s worth it for the mo_

Ana stopped replying mid-sentence. Gabe waited impatiently. Finally, she replied again.

 **A. Amari** : _I take it all back. Fareeha just stormed in and started slamming doors, in MY apartment. I’ll bring Jesse his dinner at around 6, but for now I need to go get yelled at by a 12 year-old._

Gabe huffed a laugh and put his comm down on his desk. Even though he knew what he needed to do, he still didn’t want to face Jesse in the morning. He felt guilty. Ever since the SEP, he and Jack were tolerant to most drugs, including alcohol and tobacco. It took a lot to get them drunk, and nicotine withdrawal wasn’t something that Gabe had had to think about in a while. Gabe knew he wasn’t going to sleep well that night, so he unlocked his computer and got to work going over mission reports and documents.   
Jesse awoke to his alarm blaring far too early for his liking. Athena controlled all the alarms, including the ones that woke agents, and she didn’t seem to be programmed to believe in the concept of snooze buttons, so Jesse rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. After a shower, he was feeling considerably more human. A quick glance at the clock told him his door had been unlocked for forty five minutes, so he grabbed his hat and made his way to the mess hall. It was mostly empty, except for the other poor souls who had reason to be up before the sun. A few Blackwatch agents saw McCree as he passed, and raised their coffee cups in greeting. Jesse tipped his hat in return and made his way to the line for pancakes. After his meal, Jesse made his way to the training hall that Gabe booked for their one-on-one training sessions.

Jesse was not looking forward to the lecture he was going to receive upon his arrival. Gabe already said he was disappointed in Jesse, and that was almost than the man yelling at him. Maybe Gabe would yell at him first, then make him run until he throws up again.

What Jesse didn’t expect was to see Gabe sitting on the bench on the far side of the room, reading messages on his comm. Gabe looked up at the sound of Jesse’s footsteps, and Jesse snapped to attention.

“At ease,” Gabe said, sounding more tired than mad. He patted the bench next to him. “Come sit down, Jesse.”

Jesse did as he was told and sat, trying not to let the tension he felt be noticeable. Gabe sighed and put his comm in his pocket. He turned to the teen next to him, fighting for words.

“I think we need to talk, Jesse.”

Jesse fidgeted in his seat, avoiding eye contact with Gabe. He shrugged his shoulders, staring hard at the opposite wall. Gabe took that as his queue to start.

“Look, I understand why you did what you did.”

Jesse’s gaze snapped to Gabe, but his head didn’t move. Gabe took a breath, but carried on.

“I haven’t had a reason to think about addiction in... well, in a while. I assumed you had those cigarettes for reasons other than actually needing them, and I made a snap judgement. I should have worked with you on that instead of leaving you cold turkey alone. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Gabe felt like he should be internally berating himself, he broke Ana’s rule of not apologizing. But this apology was justified. He just needed to lay down some ground rules.

“However,” he continued, “I’m not sorry for putting my foot down. I gave you direct orders, and you disobeyed them. I’m not going to discipline you any further, because I think that kicking your addiction is going to be punishment enough. On that note,” he dug in his hoodie pocket, pulling out a box of nicotine patches, handing them to Jesse. “Slap that on, and get moving, McCree. Ten laps, running the whole time, don’t let me catch you slacking.”

Jesse stood up, rolling his sleeve up. Gabe helped him stick the patch on, and then clapped his hand on his shoulder, giving him a light push towards the running track.   
“I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” Jesse grumbled, breaking into a jog, tossing his hat onto the bench. But Gabe caught the hint of the smile playing on his lips as he ran off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blease leave comments. I love all the kudos, but comments make my day! I love hearing from everybody. Blease. My family is starving.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! Sorry it's been a while since I updated, between finals and winter break things have been crazy! I hope y'all like this one, I'm still on the fence about it. 
> 
> Takes place right at the beginning of Jesse's time in Blackwatch

After Jesse joined up with Blackwatch, Gabriel made him wait a week before joining training with the other Blackwatch agents. He claimed that it was because he wanted to give Jesse some time to adjust to living on the base, but Jesse suspected that it was to give Gabe a little more time to figure out how the hell he was going to explain to a group of highly dangerous black-ops soldiers and spies that he recruited a damn kid right out of the interrogation room.

Whatever the reason, Jesse found himself dreading over training the next day. One-on-one training with just Gabe- and on occasion, Captain Amari- was easier on his nerves. Just two people to impress, and Gabe had told him that Jesse wasn't at any risk of being tossed out if he didn't immediately meet Blackwatch's standards. Amari mostly just hung back and watched from the side of the room, or she gave him one to two word pointers, how to move his arms when he ran in order to go faster and save his stamina, how to plant his feet and how to fall properly whenever Gabe taught him basic hand-to-hand.

No, training with the rest of Blackwatch was a prospect that daunted Jesse, because no matter what the commanders spouted about unit cohesion, Jesse knew that there was a silent hierarchy in every group. In the motley group of agents and spies and soldiers, there was an unofficial leader there, lurking under Reyes. And Jesse knew he had two options in order to save his skin: challenge, and come out on top of the leader, or get in good with him and his buddies.

Jesse went to sleep the night before his official induction to Blackwatch weighing all his options, mind heavy with worry.

Jesse awoke the morning of his induction, his nerves a bundle in the pit of his stomach. Angrily pushing away the sensation, he smoked a cigarette in the bathroom before getting dressed. He donned his hat and neckerchief and boots before pulling on the chest plate given to him by Reyes. He eyed himself in the mirror, half heartedly fussing with the small amount of scruff on his jaw. Jesse wasn't vain by any standards, but first impressions mattered.

Gabriel caught up to Jesse just as the boy reached the doors to the obstacle course they'd be running simulations on for the day. He reached out and laid a hand on Jesse's shoulder, only to remove it after he felt the muscles tense under his hand.

Jesse turned to face him, standing stiffly at attention as best he could. That being said, the military posture wasn't drilled into Jesse like it was into Gabe, so it looked more like a child's attempt at standing to attention.

 _'He's so young,'_ Gabe thought, eyes roving over Jesse's grim face. _'Last chance to back out now.'_

"Boss?"

Jesse's voice brought him back to himself. Gabe swallowed down all his apprehension and instead pushed the door open.

Inside, Blackwatch agents were in various stages of warming up, stretching and chatting amongst themselves. As soon as Gabe stepped through the door, they all lined up at attention, watching him for the day's briefing and orders. Jesse lurked behind Gabriel, feeling awkward and out of place. Gabe saw the eyes of his men lingering on the boy behind him, so he cleared his throats and pulled up a holographic screen of the mission itinerary for the next month.

"Alright, focus up! We've got it pretty easy for the next month, but shit happens, we might be called in tomorrow if need be, so we're staying sharp! We're working on the course today, and afterwards I need to speak to Marshall and Xeiong about the captives from Dorado."

The mentioned agents called out matching "yessirs" to him, and the group started to get restless, sensing the end of the meeting.

"One more thing," Gabe said, reaching behind him to gesture to Jesse. Jesse stepped up beside him, eyeing the crowd of agents in front of him.

There were whispers among the gathered, Gabe saw one man in back actually pointing at Jesse's hat while whispering to his friend. Then he actually snickered at something his friend said. The pointer was Andrews, a tank of a man, whose weak point was subtlety. He was good for codebreaking and pushing a path for his teammates, but not much else. Gabe wasn't personally fond of him, but he had his uses. Gabriel knew that Jesse had spotted Andrews when Jesse stiffened beside him (he wasn't actually sure it was even humanly possible for Jesse to become any tenser than he already was) and his gaze sharpened.

"This is Jesse McCree, a new recruit. I expect you all to show him around, show him the ropes. Give him some Blackwatch hospitality!"

With that, Gabe shooed them off, Jesse hesitantly falling at the end of the group, watching the rest of the agents for clues on how to proceed. Gabe watched as Jesse leaped over the first obstacle and dodged the next one, all while keeping up with the end of the pack, and when he was satisfied, he left for his office. Morning drills was when he got the most of his paperwork done.

Jesse fell in at the end of the group easily enough, this part was similar enough to the raids Deadlock did. He even considered pushing ahead into the middle of the pack, but then thought better of it. Who knew if someone would consider it a challenge.

About the fifth time lapping the course, Jesse began to fall behind the group. Without teammates ahead of him to clear potential obstacles, Jesse stumbled, falling even further behind. Leaping to his feet, Jesse ran even harder, desperately trying to close the growing gap between him and the last person in the pack, but in the end he was just winded. Jesse wiped the sweat from his face, but something struck him from behind. Lurching and stumbling to keep from falling, Jesse careened forwards, losing his hat in the process. A large hand scooped it up, and the one who grabbed the hat put it atop their own head. Jesse snarled at the thief. It was the same man who laughed at him earlier.

"Keep up, McCree!" The mocking voice flashed past Jesse as the man, and soon the group, all lapped Jesse, passing him and starting a new lap.

Jesse ran as hard as he could, leaping over barriers and jumping through gaps and climbing walls, but he just couldn't keep up.

After what felt like hours, finally an alarm sounded and all the agents ground to a halt. They started making their way over to grab towels and water bottles, talking amongst themselves and laughing. Jesse pushed past a pair of women who were deep in conversation about a show Jesse had never heard of, following his hat, still atop the head of a complete stranger.

Jesse stomped up behind the man, who was in the middle of animatedly telling a story to a circle of his friends. Jesse wrapped a hand around the man's arm, pulling him around to face him.

"So I said to her- hey, what the hell!"

Jesse hadn't really had a chance to appreciate just how tall this man was until face-to-face with him, but he just squared his shoulders and glared even harder.

"You've got somethin' that ain't yours," Jesse said.

The man laughed, false sincerity dripping from every word.

"Aw, recruit thinks we're being serious." He turned to look at his friends, a sharp grin on his face. "Here you go, man."

He reached up and took the hat from his head, holding it out to Jesse. Jesse reached out to take it back, but just as his fingertips brushed it, the hat jolted back, up and out of his reach. On instinct, Jesse reached up for his hat, but pulled his hand back when he realize he was being baited. Jesse scowled up at the man.

"Best not do that again," he growled. Distantly, he heard the room go silent behind him.

"Sorry, man, won't happen again." Again, the hat was offered. Jesse went to grab it, and once again, his hat was snatched away.

"Just out of curiosity, you know," the man drawled lazily, turning the hat over in his hands, "How the hell did Reyes find you? Never seen anyone get away with such a blatant dress code violation for drills."

Jesse clenched his jaw but said nothing, still glaring up at the man.

"Andrews," one of his friends began to butt in, hesitant, "does it matter? He's here now."

Andrews softly clicked his tongue.

"See, I do think it matters, Jacob, because it you bothered to use your goddamn eyes, you'd see the fucking Deadlock tattoo on his goddamn arm!"

Jesse froze.

"So I think, yeah, it's pretty fucking important how he got here, because if you don't remember, he was responsible for killing our own!"

Andrews threw Jesse's hat like a frisbee over to his friends and loomed over Jesse, getting in his face.

"Is he even gonna be loyal? He's probably waiting to sell us out to his gangbanger friends!"

Jesse snarled. "Don't run with them anymore, they'd kill me for even bein' here."

Andrews scoffed.

"Whatever. Traitor or not, one thing's true: you're nothing but Reyes's dog, just some piece of shit he hauled in to make himself-"

Andrews didn't get to finish, because Jesse was already swinging.

Knuckles cracked against jaw, and then Jesse saw stars as a meaty fist clocked him on the side of his head, and then they were being pulled apart by other Blackwatch agents, Andrews shouting, and Jesse bucking against the arms that held him back.

Someone must have gone to grab Gabriel, because a shout stopped all agents where they stood.

Reyes stood in between the two quarreling agents, his arms crossed, looking the definition of angry.

"You," he spat at Jesse, "my office. Now." He turned and pointed a finger at Andrews. "And you, running this course until I send someone to come get you."

Andrews shrugged off the people holding his arms and trudged over to the obstacle course.

Jesse wrenched himself free from his captors and fell in line behind Gabe, snatching his hat back as he went.

Jesse sullenly plodded into the office, sinking into a chair in front of the desk. Gabe took little time in sitting at his own chair, and then steepled his fingers and studied Jesse until he felt his skin crawl.

"What?" He snapped, fearful and irritated. Anxiety began to build within him. What if he failed some sort of test, and he was going to be sent to prison? What if he pissed off Gabe's second in command?

His thoughts were broken by a rumbling laugh from Gabe.

"I'm supposed to say that I don't allow fighting in my agency," he said once the laughter had subsided, "but I saw what was happening on the cameras, and I can't blame you. Andrews is an asshole, I've been wanting to deck him myself for a while."

Jesse reeled silently. Gabe carried on.

"You can't do that again, obviously, but Andrews was baiting a new recruit into a fight. I could suspend him for that. Would that be okay with you?"

Jesse started. "What? It don't matter what I say, why're you askin'?"

Gabe leaned forward, meeting Jesse's eyes.

"It matters because he was antagonizing you, a new recruit, and revealing personal information about you to everyone. He was out of line, and he needs to be punished. So, I'll repeat: would you be okay with me suspending Andrews?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Gabe's gaze softened.

"I've got your back, Jesse. And I know it might not seem like it, but I swear that Blackwatch does, too."

Gabe turned on his computer began filling out the paperwork for suspending Andrews.

"You won't receive a punishment, McCree. Just make sure this doesn't happen again, huh? I don't tolerate infighting."

He looked up at the boy, who was looking more and more confused by the second. Jesse attacked another agent who probably ranked above him, and antagonized or not, if he pulled that shit in Deadlock he would be on death's door by now.

"You're dismissed, McCree."

At that, Jesse left, almost scrambling for the door in his haste.

After the door shut, Gabriel sat at his desk, weighing his options. Jesse had a temper, no doubt a sign of his trauma from being in Deadlock. Sighing, Gabe pulled up Jesse's file and made a note: _potential anger issues, potential trauma, psych eval mandatory_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't quite get the ending: Jesse would probably have quite the temper after his time in Deadlock. Being in such an aggressive, toxic environment would not be good for him. It's a sign of trauma, not being able to regulate emotions. Hopefully at some point I'll write about Jesse getting the help he actually needs, because as well-meaning as Gabe is, he's not an actual therapist. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I swear I’m not dead! Things have just been a little hectic... but here’s a new chapter, and I’m trying to get back on that whole “update once a month thing”. Sorry about the wait. 
> 
> On the the show!

It was rare that they spend time at Grand Mesa. Normally, Blackwatch stayed at the Swiss HQ, ready to go on a moment’s notice, to jump into action at the press of a button, but for the next month the unit would be stationed out at Grand Mesa. That suited Jesse just fine. He preferred the Rocky Mountains to the Alps any day. The southwest was home to him, and no matter how many times he had to get used to the cold of Switzerland, he always would belong to the desert.

It was even rarer that Ana and Fareeha be at home at the same time, while also being stationed at the same base as Blackwatch. Jesse just guessed that Morrison was getting his duster in a bunch, twitchy about the idea of a covert ops team not being under his nose and watchful eyes for a whole month, so he sent his second-in-command to keep an eye on them.

Jesse looked over the mountain range, a cigarette clamped firmly between his teeth, watching the sun rise, bathing the world in a warm light, turning the mesa shades of orange and red. Jesse leaned back on his palms, legs dangling over the edge of the roof, contentedly soaking in the view and smoke. Ever since he turned eighteen he had been smoking again. On his birthday, he went right down to the nearest gas station and bought the largest cartons he could, and proceeded to chain smoke a pack in clear view of Gabe. It wasn’t his smartest idea, however, because Gabe had set Fareeha on him, armed with a spray bottle. The bastard was paying her a dollar for each cigarette she could extinguish.

Hell, Fareeha was the reason that Jesse was awake and up early enough to watch the sunrise. Her birthday was coming up soon, and Jesse had enough cash in his bank accounts to afford to go get her something. She was turning twelve soon, and even though Jesse would deny it, after only about a year, he was starting to look at the little girl as something of a younger sister.

Normally, Jesse would have just borrowed a car and made his way to the closest town, Cedarridge, but Gabe also wanted to get something for Fareeha, and suggested they make a day of it when there wasn’t any training scheduled. Jesse, having nothing better to do, agreed. So now he waited for Gabriel, warming up with the summer sun.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait too long. After a short while, the door banged open, and Jesse hopped to his feet, crushing his cigarette under his boot. Gabe made his way over to stand by Jesse’s side, and for a moment, the two of them quietly watched the rocks turn colors in the sun. The moment was ruined by Gabe, who grumbled, “It’s too damn bright too early in the day.”

Jesse laughed at Gabe’s irritation, and the two of them made their way down to the garage. Overwatch was kind enough to have a handful of cars on hand for employees who didn’t have their own, or those who had to fly in and had no other form of transportation. Jesse flung himself into the passenger side of a little car, something small as to not attract unwanted attention. After all, the southwest might be his home, but there were rumors spreading around that not all of Deadlock was behind bars. That was a terrifying thought in of itself to Jesse, even though it was unlikely that there would be any cells this close to an Overwatch base. Even so, Jesse made sure to wear his sleeves long enough to cover his tattoo. Deadlock didn’t take kindly to deserters or snitches.

Gabe made his way into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. Once the car revved to life, he cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked. Gabe cursed again and tapped at a meter on the dashboard.

“Last person to take this one out forgot to fill it up,” he growled. “Looks like we’ll have to stop at the nearest gas station, or else we’ll be pushing it into town.”

Jesse shrugged. “Lemme know when you need me to push, boss,” he murmured, propping his feet up on the dash and pulling his hat down over his eyes. “‘M gonna be takin’ a little nap.” Gabe waved him off, half-heartedly pushing at his feet, but gave up shortly. Jesse watched the scenery fly by out of the corner of his eyes, but soon the heat of the day and the motion of the car had him drifting off.

Soon after Jesse started snoring, Gabe pulled into a gas station. Reaching over, he knocked Jesse’s hat off his face, startling the boy awake. Jesse bolted upright, one arm tangled in the seatbelt, hat in his lap, and feet still on the dash. “Wha’issit,” he slurred, looking around wildly, the absolute picture of tired bewilderment. Gabe laughed and slid from the car, reaching into his wallet to pay for gas. Jesse stumbled out after him, blinking in the bright sunlight. It was a lot hotter below the mountain, and he rolled the sleeves of his flannel up, grimacing at the sensation of sweat sticking the fabric to his skin.

Gabe fished out a twenty from his wallet and gave it to Jesse. “Here, go get us some coffee and some snacks. This shouldn’t take too long.” Shrugging, Jesse took the cash and walked into the gas station, stretching his legs as he went. Gabe turned back to pumping gas.

Neither of them payed any attention to the old pickup truck that pulled in and parked by the entrance to the store, filled with men and boys who were all loud and dirty and rough-looking.

Inside the store, Jesse was having a hell of a time struggling with the coffee machine. Not only was the damn thing probably older than he was, it only dispensed an ounce of coffee at a time, resulting in the most arduous method possible to fill the flimsy paper cups stacked next to the machine. The teenager, looking bored and underpaid, leaning against the counter and blatantly ignoring Jesse, was of no help whatsoever. Jesse cursed under his breath and jammed his finger against the “dispense” button for the fifth time. Behind him, the bell above the door rang, carrying with it the sound of raucous voices and laughter.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jesse was greeted with the sight of a group of five men, ranging from late twenties to maybe thirteen. They all wore a similarly eclectic style of clothing, ranging from biking leathers and spikes and chains to flannels and bandannas and denim and spurred boots. It would’ve been easy for Jesse to ignore them, but something caught his eye: on the youngest boy, a tattoo coursing up his bare upper arm, fresh and red and swollen looking. The skull on the tattoo glared at him, challenging him to say something, the establishment date of nineteen-seventy-eight burned into his eyelids, the chains and padlock and wings throbbing in time with the frantic beating of his heart.

It was the Deadlock logo, and Jesse had the same goddamn tattoo stained into his arm. Hell, he still had the belt buckle, shoved into the back of his dresser and ignored. Coffee abandoned, Jesse pulled his hat lower over his eyes, and pretended to be very, very interested in the chip racks in front of him. He could not, under any circumstances, be caught by them. Deadlock had a very... particular view of justice and all that entailed. Nobody left Deadlock alive, and those who somehow managed it, well, they didn’t live for very long, with enormous bounties on their heads, requested to be brought back dead or alive. Jesse needed to sneak out as quickly as he could, and maybe, just maybe, Gabe had a secret shotgun hidden in the trunk of the car.

Jesse scoped out the store as quick as he could. He was at the very back, furthest away from the door. The group had started to fan out, the oldest talking to the still-bored looking teenager at the register. The youngest was grabbing snacks off the shelves and pooling them in his arms, two isles away from Jesse. One man headed off into the bathroom, while another stood outside it, waiting his turn, while the last remaining man piled smokes and bottles of alcohol into his arms, taking trips to lug them up to the register. Jesse would have to make his move, and soon. He was pretty sure that the cashier had forgotten he was even there, and if he timed it right, he could slip out the door while everybody was distracted. He waited until the one guy ambled his way up to the register, hands full of cigarettes, and Jesse darted forward, behind all the shelves and racks of items- at least, he attempted to. His foot got caught in the edge of a cardboard display holding snack cakes, and Jesse tripped, taking the stand with him, all with a loud _crash_.

All heads in the establishment turned towards him. Groaning, Jesse blinked open his eyes to see a hand thrust in his face. Taking it, he was hauled to his feet by the youngest boy, who stared at him with cold, hard eyes.

“T-thank ya kindly,” Jesse managed, caught off-guard by the intense glare from the boy. Hell, it was like looking in a damn mirror, the kid couldn’t have been much younger than Jesse when he joined up. He shook the boy’s hand. The boy’s eyes flicked down to look at Jesse’s hand, and Jesse knew the moment they snapped onto his tattoo. Shit. He had rolled his sleeves up, and his tattoo was exposed for all to see. The boy tilted his head to the side, considering Jesse.

“You a member too.”

It wasn’t a question, but a declaration, something that demanded an answer. Unfortunately, the boy wasn’t quiet about it. Jesse might have had them all looking at him when he fell, but now he had their attention. One of the other men made his way over to them, propping his elbow on the boy’s shoulder. He leered at Jesse’s tattoo, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he did.

“We ain’t seen you around here,” he said. “What part are ya from? What group?”

Jesse bit back his nerves, instead adopting his old mannerisms. It felt weird to him, letting himself slouch and squint and glare needlessly, everything that Gabe taught him not to do. But, this was just like an undercover mission, he just needed to bluff his way out of this and make his way back to the car and then they could drive off and Jesse could forget this ever happened.

“Route sixty-six,” he announced, letting pride lift him and puff out his chest. Deadlock might have cells and groups spread all throughout the southwest, but Deadlock Gorge on Route Sixty-Six was their headquarters. It was like saying you were tough shit. You were at the front lines, you were in charge of the heists and actually getting the weapons. The other cells just distributed them to buyers.

Unfortunately, news traveled faster and more thoroughly than Jesse anticipated, because instead of backing off, the man took a literal step closer.

“That so? ‘Cuz, we got some real interesting news, few months ago. They was sayin’ that the Gorge got took out by some government pricks. Overwatch, or someone real nasty like that.”

Jesse shrugged, doing his best to appear nonchalant. “That what they’re sayin’?”

The man nodded slowly, eyes roving over Jesse, taking in his appearance.

“That’s what they’re sayin’. ‘Course, if that was really the case, you’d be along with all’a them, in jail with your crew. Unless you ditched? Squealed to the pigs? Said somethin’ you’d _regret_?”

He reached out and snatched Jesse’s wrist. On instinct, Jesse tried to yank away, but the grip tightened. The man licked his lips, studied his face. A slow grin crept across his face.

“You’re Jesse McCree, ain’t ya? They told us to keep an eye out for ya, had a picture and everythin’. And you’ve got a nice bounty on your head, plenty of money for us if we return ya to Deadlock Gorge.” And then Jesse’s arm was being twisted behind his back, and he was forced down onto his knees. The man holding his wrist shouted something, and the man at the counter shouted back, and then Jesse’s wrists were taped together and then he was picked up and forcibly carried to the door. Jesse struggled as hard as he could, feet kicking and shouting. As soon as they were out the door and into the hot sunlight, Jesse shouted for Gabe.

Gabe had finished pumping gas maybe two minutes before the group exploded out the door. Jesse shouted his name, wriggling and fighting for all his worth. He managed to kick one man under the chin, knocking him backwards, but his victory was short lived, as the youngest boy pulled out a pistol. It was a six-shooter, similar to the ones Jesse favored, and Gabe wondered if he was about to watch Jesse get shot at point-blank range before the boy reversed it, holding the barrel, and whipped Jesse in the face with the handle. Jesse sagged, stunned by the blow, and that was all the group needed to start bundling him in the back of the truck. In the midst of the chaos, his hat was knocked from his head to the ground and trampled underfoot.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Gabe shouted, “Hey!” and ran at the truck. He might not have a weapon on him, but he was an enhanced soldier, and that had to count for something. Gabe didn’t have a chance to get much further than around the side of his car, however, because the boy flipped the gun around and shot at Gabriel. He ducked behind his car, avoiding the bullets, and could only watch as the truck carrying Jesse sped away.

Defeated, Gabe read the plate number as the truck disappeared into the distance. They were probably fake plates anyways. There was nothing Gabe could do at the moment. He was outmanned, outgunned, and literally alone. He needed to launch a rescue mission, and time was of the essence. Gabe scrambled for Jesse’s hat before diving for the car. He sped away, recounting everything he knew of Deadlock and how they acted. All of his knowledge was either from Jesse, or from a few interviews done with members in prison. The extend of Gabe’s knowledge told him that if he didn’t move soon, Jesse would be dead. Ghastly images of his protégée danced in his mind’s eye, and he stepped on the gas pedal, speeding back to base.

* * *

 

“So, just to clarify, you don’t want me to use the chopper?”

Ana’s amused voice rang out over the call that she, Jack, and Gabriel were sharing. Gabriel shook his head. “No, they’ll hear it coming from a mile away, and might decide to get rid of Jesse. We can’t be too obvious.”

Ana huffed. “Well, if you have everything planned out, why don’t you just do this rescue alone? Intel says there’s only about twenty in this cell, they’re pretty new and disorganized, and I’ve seen you take out more targets by yourself than this.”

Gabe dragged a hand over his face, trying not to shout at Ana. He was eighty percent sure she was only teasing him, trying to get him to loosen up. But Gabe couldn’t loosen up, if Jesse was seriously hurt, or even killed, then that would be on Gabe. He had promised Jesse that he would keep the boy safe from Deadlock’s retribution, and he failed. If he didn’t make a move, and soon, then Jesse could be sent off god-knows-where.

“I need you as backup,” he growled. “I need someone to drive in case I get taken out, and I need someone with medical skills like yourself to patch Jesse back up, because he sure won’t be making it out of this unscathed. Is that clear?”

Unworried by Gabe’s gruff tone, Ana folded her arms across her chest. “Just one problem,” she said. “Who will watch Fareeha?”

Gabe tried not to roll his eyes. “She’s nearly twelve, Ana. Kids her age are already babysitting other kids. And when we get Jesse back, you can have him to do all the babysitting you want. He likes hanging out with Fareeha, and she likes spraying his cigarettes out. Fair deal, if you ask me.”

Ana considered for a moment, before rising to her feet. “Deal,” she said. “But, Jack,” she called out to the last member of their group call. “If I don’t make it back, you have to keep an eye on Fareeha until her father can come and get her.”

Jack laughed, and when he spoke, a smile was evident in his voice. “Sounds good. Hey, it’s been too long since I got to spend some quality time with her. How about she comes and stays with me next school break?”

Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is all charming and shit, but can we go rescue my boy now?”

Jack hurriedly signed off while Gabe pointedly ignored Ana’s incredulous _“My boy?”_

Soon, the two of them were making final preparations to go in the truck in the garage of the base.

Gabe turned the truck on, eyeing Ana beside him. Her biotic rifle sat at her feet, ready to go at a moments notice. She gave him the nod, and soon the two of them were off, heading towards the little town of Mesa. It was about an hour away from the base, almost directly opposite of Cedarridge. Gabe drove as fast as he dared, the speedometer never dropping below sixty five. Soon, they pulled into the small town. Their intel directed them to an abandoned warehouse building that housed this cell’s weapon supply, ready to be sold to the highest bidder at a moment’s notice. They parked a few blocks away and Gabe helped Ana set up her position on a roof of a nearby building. She peered through the scope of her rifle into a window into the building, and whistled.

“Yup,” she said, “I can see him from here. He’s not as bad as you were probably expecting, but it sure doesn’t look good. Good call, bringing me.” Gabe asked if she needed anything else before he went in, checking over his shotguns and double-checking his ammunition. Ana waved him off. “Go get your boy,” she said, laughing a little at him.

Gabe made his way down to the warehouse and crept along the side of the building, all the way to where the emergency exit was. He gripped the handle and took a deep breath, and then he swung the door open and began firing.

It was absolute chaos for the poor Deadlock members caught unaware. Shotgun blasts rent the air as gang members ran this way and that, looking for a way out. Some of the more brazen members drew their guns and shot back at Gabe, but he ducked out of the way, stepping around doorways and behind cover. A bullet whizzed past Gabe’s head, catching on the material of his beanie. Gabe whipped around to see the boy, the one who pistol-whipped Jesse earlier, standing in the emergency exit where Gabe had entered. He stood, illuminated in the light of the sun, just an outline of a child with a gun raised, before he slipped out the door and ran. Gabe didn’t have time to consider chasing the boy down, he could only hope that Ana got him, or that he would make a good life for himself outside of the gang.

It didn’t take Gabriel long to clear out the warehouse and make his way back to the room where Jesse was being held. He looked like shit, to say the least. He was tied to a chair, the ropes digging into his ankles and wrists. Two black eyes and a lump on his face where the skin had split on impact. It looked like he had bitten his tongue or something when he took a blow, because there was blood running down his chin. At the sound of Gabe’s approach, he looked up, his hair falling over his eyes. The only light in the room was from the dirty windows at the top of the room, casting Jesse in a pale, sickly light. Gabe was struck by how similar this moment was to the first time he even met Jesse McCree, just over a year ago.

“Ya know, you’re prob’ly real sick of havin’ to come in and save my sorry ass, _jefe_.” Jesse grinned up at Gabe, tossing his head to move his hair out of his eyes. Gabe crouched next to Jesse, working on the knots holding him in the chair.

“Just part of the job,” Gabe replied, tearing at the stubborn knots. “Damn, who did these?” Jesse shrugged. “That kid,” he replied. “Little bastard’s real clever- mean as all hell, too. Got a real mouth and right hook on ‘im.”

Gabe huffed a laugh as he gave up on the knots and instead searched around for anything sharp enough to cut the rope. He found a little knife in the pocket of one of the bodies lying outside the room and went back to Jesse, sawing through the ropes.

“Got any idea what they had planned for you?” Gabe asked, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Jesse rolled his head back, wriggling his fingers. “Oh, the usual, I’m guessin’. Send me off to Route Sixty-Six, and if there’s anyone still hangin’ around there, then they’d probably kill me. Deadlock don’t forgive traitors.” Jesse chuckled darkly.

Gabe eyes him. “And you seem pretty casual about this,” he said slowly. Did Jesse have any idea about what would have happened to him? Jesse shrugged again. “I could’a talked my way outta it,” he muttered. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Gabriel stopped working, and fixed Jesse with a hard stare that had the power to freeze the boy on the spot. It didn’t seem like Jesse understood the gravity of the situation. Gabe recalled interviews with a snarling gang member, who spoke of _setting traitors up to dangle from the train tracks above the diner, lettin’ ‘em choke on a noose until they heaved and danced until the next train came along and cut the rope._

Gabe grabbed Jesse’s arms and shook the boy until he was certain he had Jesse’s attention.

“Look at me,” he said, meeting Jesse’s eyes and not releasing his arms. “I need you to promise me something, Jesse. And I mean actually promise me.” Jesse looked alarmed. “What? What’s so important?” Gabe squeezed Jesse’s arms. “You need to promise me that you’ll never go back there, never go back to Deadlock Gorge. Because, Jesse, they won’t just tie you up, they won’t just hurt you, hell, they won’t even shoot you. Jesse, they’ll hang you. Deadlock justice says to let you die on a noose, hanging from the train tracks. You understand why you can’t go back there, ever?”

Jesse seemed to consider this, before nodding. He looked a little pale, and Gabriel felt bad for scaring him, but it was likely that Jesse had never seen anyone be killed within Deadlock for this specific reason, in this specific fashion.

Gabe finally managed to cut Jesse free, and helped the teen to his feet.

As the two made their way outside, Jesse squinted against the light of the noontime sun. Gabe waved to Ana, who gave him a thumbs up in response. Gabe wrapped an arm around Jesse’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“Jesse, I promised you that I would keep you safe from Deadlock. I may have failed that today, but I swear I never will again. Got that, _hijo_?” Jesse grinned up at him. “Sure thing, _jefe_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what y’all think! I love hearing from you guys so much, every comment makes my day!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: I am not a professional!

Gabe looked up from his paperwork as a knock on the doorframe sounded. Jesse stood there, hanging around awkwardly in the hallway. Gabe snorted, beckoning him inside.

“I’ve got an open door policy for a reason, kid.” Jesse shrugged, and made for Gabe’s couch. “Actually,” Gabriel said as he swept his current papers into a file, “could you shut the door before you sit down?”

Jesse raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did as he was told, and instead chose to plop down in one of the chairs closer to Gabe’s desk. “So, what’d you call me in here for, boss?” He swung his feet up to prop them on the desk, but a stern look from Gabe had him dropping his boots back to the carpet.

Gabe steepled his fingers and surveyed Jesse, trying to guess at his reaction to the coming news.

“McCree, it’s mandatory for all Overwatch and Blackwatch agents to go through a psych evaluation within their first month. It’s coming up on your time to do one.”

Jesse was still and quiet for a moment before his nose wrinkled. “Why? I don’ need a shrink, pokin’ around in my head, I’m not fucked up!”

“Jesse,” Gabe tried to soothe the boy, “It’s just a test to see what you’re thinking, see how you’re adjusting to life here in Blackwatch. You’re just talking to another person, nothing painful or anything like that.”

Jesse glared at him, arms crossed tightly across his chest. “I know how it works. I talk to some quack who think’s I’m all fucked up, and then I gotta go back again and again, all because someone who spend every damn day of their life stuck in a book think’s I’m fucked in the head, just ‘cuz I don’t spend every second of my time reflecting on my ‘ _feelin’s’_.” He sneered the last word, his lip curled as if he spotted something rotten.

Gabe considered his words for a moment. “So, you think someone who goes to therapy is weak? Less of a man?”

Jesse hesitated, his back stiffening in the way that Gabe was coming to recognize as what happened when he thought he was going to get in trouble. “I go to therapy, Jesse. So does Jack, so does Ana. It doesn’t make you weak. You wouldn’t be weak if you went to the med bay after getting shot, would you?”

Jesse glared at the carpet. “‘Guess not,” he mumbled, fervently not meeting Gabriel’s eyes. He sighed, shoulders finally relaxing some. “When is it?” Gabe checked the time on his comm unit. “It’s in half an hour, actually. We’d better be getting you over there.”

They made their way across the base and up a level to a floor completely dedicated to various offices. Gabriel knocked on one of the doors, and a stout woman opened the door, smiling at them.

“Ah, Commander Reyes! So good to see you! Have you brought me a new recruit?”

Jesse shied away from her, but Gabe’s hand on his shoulder kept him from bolting, even though every instinct in him was screaming for him to run fast and far away.

“Jesse, this is Dr. Kim, she handles the psych evals for Blackwatch, and oversees the therapy for many of my agents. Dr. Kim, this is Jesse McCree, it’s time for his eval.”

Dr. Kim beckoned Jesse into her office. Jesse took a small step forward, but hesitated, turning back towards Gabe. “Will I be able to find you after this?” His voice was so small, and if Gabe knew any better, he might have said that McCree was shrinking in on himself, hiding his face beneath the brim of his hat.

Gabe gestured around the hall. “I’ll be waiting out here, in case you need to get me for anything,” he said, voice soft. “I can come in with you, if you want.” Jesse shook his head. “Nah, that’s alright... Just wait out here?” Gabe smiled at him and nodded, gently shooing Jesse into the office.

After one last glance, Jesse stepped in, and Dr. Kim shut the door behind her.

“Please, take a seat,” she said, gesturing towards a plush couch lined with throw pillows. She herself sat in a desk chair and pulled a clipboard towards her. Jesse sat on the edge of the couch, trying not to bounce his leg.

“First of all, everything you say in here will be confidential unless you pose a danger to yourself or others, in which case I’ll have to report it to your commanding officer. Does that sound okay?”

Jesse narrowed his eyes at her. “Everything?” She nodded. Jesse leaned back a little in his seat and crossed his arms. She made a mental note, ‘ _doesn’t trust others at face value’_ , but carried on.

“So, Jesse, tell me about yourself. How’re you fitting into Blackwatch? Been on any missions yet?”

Jesse shrugged. “‘M not sure I can tell you that, ma’am.” Dr. Kim could barely make out his words, as they were mumbled and he kept looking around the room, eyes darting from corner to corner.

She waved that off easily enough. “I get that. Have you made any connections so far? Any friends? Any colleagues?”

At that, Jesse began to perk up some. “Actually, yeah. Angie Ziegler, if you know her, she’s real nice, she patched me up when I first got here. She’s a damn genius, a doctor an’ the same age as me.”

As Jesse talked more, he began to relax ever-so-slightly. “An’ Captain Amari? Gabe’s been havin’ me do some training with her, says I can learn somethin’ about shootin’ from her that he can’t teach me. Anyways, Captain Amari’s got her daughter, Fareeha, she’s a real sweetheart an’ Captain Amari tells Gabe to make me babysit her sometimes but I don’ really mind.”

Dr. Kim took a few more notes and nodded along as she listened to his story. “And what about Commander Reyes? Do you get along well with him? Is he treating you fairly, despite your age or background?”

Jesse eyed her suspiciously. “How’d’ya know about my... background? Did Reyes tell you somethin’?”

Dr. Kim raised her hands placatingly. “Just that you’ve had a... let’s say, a rough time of it. No specifics, I promise. Nobody really ends up in covert ops if they’ve had a wonderful life, anyways.”

Jesse didn’t relax again, but he stopped glaring, instead choosing to tug the brim of his hat down.

“Reyes treats me just fine. I’ve got my own room, ‘cuz I’m a minor, and I’ve been gettin’ extra training with him and Captain Amari. He says he’s lookin’ into gettin’ someone to tutor me so I can get my, uh, whatsit called...” he broke off, searching for the words. “My GED, that’s it. Reyes wasn’t too happy I dropped outta school, but hey, that one ain’t my fault.”

Dr. Kim made a note and crushed her hair away from her eyes. “And why did you drop out of school?”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “My Ma died when I was younger, Dad got hurt in a car crash. Don’ have a lot of time for the books then.”

Dr. Kim let the issue fall, but something about that response didn’t sit right with her. She knew when she was being lied to.

“Well, Jesse, now that we’ve gotten to know each other a little better, would you do me a quick favor and fill out these forms for me? They’re just some standard surveys that I’ve got to give every new agent, nothing too bad.”

She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a few packets of paper. Handing him the forms and a pen, she let him get to work. On her tablet, a messaged popped up.

 **G. Reyes:** _Is everything ok in there?_

Dr. Kim took a moment to type out a quick response, eying Jesse over the top of her tablet. The teen chewed on the end of the pen for a moment before making a mark on the paper.

 **M. Kim:** _He’s fine, he’s doing the evaluations right now_

 **G. Reyes:** _Let me know if/when you need me in there_

 **M. Kim:** _Absolutely, Commander_

“Hey, doc? Finished these up, I dunno what I’m supposed to do with ‘em.” Jesse waved the papers around, and she took them, running the results and answers through a database on her tablet.

One by one, data came back, pinging on her screen. Notes that she took, notes sent to her by Gabriel, results and patterns picked up by the surveys and tests.

Depression, anxiety, imposter syndrome, obvious distrust of new people and environments, unhealthy childhood, unsafe environments, no healthy role models, to name a few

Jesse stared at her tablet, obviously trying to read the information upside down. “What’s it sayin’ about me?”

Dr. Kim took a moment to consider her options. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Jesse didn’t have a healthy relationship with his emotions and mental health. No doubt that Gabriel would knock some sense into him, but being only a month into his induction, it would be slow going.

“Well, Jesse, have you ever heard of clinical depression?”

The teenager stared at her, partly disbelieving, partly angered. “No, no way I’m one ‘o them, I ain’t spending all day moping around-“ Dr. Kim cut him off by raising a placating hand. “I know this must come as a surprise, but there are more symptoms of depression besides the, well, depression. For example, on the survey you said that you can’t relax most days, you’re always on guard, have trouble sleeping, and various muscle pains that can’t be explained-“

Jesse stood up, fists clenched at his sides. “All that don’t mean I’m fucked in the head! You shrinks are all the damn same, spewin’ some bullshit about helpin’ folks when you really jus’ wanna fuck us up more for a quick buck!”

Jesse made for the door, one hand tugging his hat lower over his eyes. “Agent McCree, I don’t recommend leaving-“ Jesse flipped her off and shouldered his way into the hallway.

Dr. Kim sighed and typed out a quick message to Commander Reyes.

 **M. Kim:** _Incoming_

Gabe’s comm pinged, and he barely had time to read the message from the doctor before Jesse was making his way down the hallway towards him. Gabe stood quickly, blocking the hallway. Jesse glared at him, but stopped, crossing his arms and looking every inch the moody teenager he hated to look like.

Gabriel sighed. “What’s all this, McCree?”

Still glaring, Jesse refused to meet his eyes. “Doc’s sayin’ I’m fucked up.” Slowly, telegraphing his movements, Gabe put his hands on Jesse’s shoulders and turned him around, gently marching him back down that hallway. “Remember that talk we had earlier about listening to doctors? They don’t just say things just to lie. Well, most of them don’t.”

The door to Dr. Kim’s office was still open, and she beckoned them inside.

“Agent McCree, do you want Commander Reyes to stay in here while we discuss some things, or do you want him to leave?”

Jesse shrugged. “Does it matter what I say?” Dr. Kim nodded encouragingly. “In this matter? Always.”

Jesse looked up at Gabriel, chewing on the inside of his cheek, mulling his options over. Eventually he nodded. “He can stay.”

Dr. Kim gestured for the two of them to take a seat, Jesse plopping back down onto his seat on the couch, Gabe taking a plush armchair.

“Now, Agent McCree,” she began, pressing a button on her tablet and creating a holographic display screen for them both to look at, “based on your answers in the survey and the data that I’ve been given, I think it would be a fair assumption to diagnose you with clinical depression. However, given that you’re in your first month of a big life transition, and you’re a minor, I’m going to hold off on an official diagnosis. Professionally, I think that given another month or two, this might shake out and turn out to be a low patch, but unprofessionally,” she leaned in in a conspiring fashion, “I think that this will stick.” She returned to her normal posture and shrunk the hologram. “I’ll be sending you some information, Agent McCree, and you can think through some treatment options. Given your status as a minor, you would normally have to share some things with your guardian, who I’m assuming is Commander Reyes. But, since you are legally emancipated, you wouldn’t have to. But, since he is your commanding officer in a black ops division where mental health of the agents is a big priority, I can release your diagnosis should he ask for it.”

She looked between the two of them. “Basically, don’t worry about it. Do you have any questions for me?”

Gabriel shook his head, and Jesse just looked confused, staring at the carpet.

“We’ll reach out if we have any questions,” Gabe said, pulling Jesse to his feet. “Thank you doc, we’ll be in touch.”

Dr. Kim waved goodbye to the two of them as they left her office, and then turned to her computer. She had a new file to start work on, and something told her it would be a pretty big one.

Jesse was silent pretty much all the way back to Gabriel’s office, walking along with the same look on his face. To a stranger, it would be near impossible to read it, but Gabe knew that look, recognized it. It was the same look that Jesse had been wearing when he was stuck in that interrogation room on that first fateful day, the look of a kid trying not to be scared, the look that he only put on when he thought nobody was watching him.

Once they made it to Gabe’s office, Jesse sat on the couch, pulling one of the throw pillows into his lap. It was one that Ana had made for Gabriel’s birthday sometime during the Crisis, a deep black pillow with embroidered little owls on it.

Jesse ran his fingers over the little owls while Gabe busied himself with making two cups of terrible instant coffee from the little pot he had in his office. Once the water was heated and the grounds stirred in enough to only be mildly crunchy, Gabe made his way over to where Jesse sat. Jesse took his mug on autopilot, deep in thought. Gabe just sat quietly, drinking his shitty coffee, until Jesse took a drink, coughing to clear his throat of the grounds that clung to the back of his throat.

“Tastes like shit, jefe,” he rasped. Gabe looked down into his mug, gently swirling it. “You feel like talking?” His voice was low and quiet, almost like how someone would talk to a spooked animal that was about to bolt. Jesse shrugged, taking another drink. “Don’ quite know what all there is to say. Doc says I’m fucked, so I guess that’s all there is to it. You an’ Angie’ve been yellin’ at me to listen to what the doctors say, so...” he trailed off, a little uncertain.

Gabe heaved a breath and put his mug on the bookshelf beside the couch. He’d probably forget about it later, but as for now there were more important things to worry about.

“Jesse, listen,” he began. “I have a... a request for you.” Once the teen turned and caught his gaze, Gabriel continued. “Stop calling yourself ‘fucked up’, because you aren’t. In this line of work, this is fairly common. Do you really think that myself, or Ana, or Jack walked away from everything unchanged?”

Jesse shrugged, muttering something that Gabe didn’t catch, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to be heard anyway.

“But the important thing to take away from this is that you can’t just avoid everything you’re feeling. We have feelings to tell us when something is good or bad, and in this line of work, it’s good to be in touch with what you’re feeling, okay?”

Gabe placed his hand on Jesse’s shoulder, giving him a little shake. “You’ve been through a lot, McCree. I can’t promise when things will get better, but I want you to know that someday, they will. I promise.”

Jesse took a shaky breath, and rubbed at his eyes, trying to fight back the flood of tears that threatened to spill out at any given moment.

“Thank you, sir,” he managed, choking around the lump in his throat. Gabe pulled him into a hug, and Jesse allowed him, a rare display that showed just how much the cowboy trusted him after just a month.

“It’s okay, hijo,” Gabe said, rubbing his back. Gabe’s tone was so soft, so understanding, so patient that Jesse bit his lip and allowed himself to cry for the first time in years, sobbing into Gabriel’s hoodie.

 


End file.
